The group moved faster.
Their legs burned, lungs stung, but no one slowed. They couldn't afford to—not with the trial creatures gaining ground behind them.
Every breath stolen for rest was a step closer to death.
Ash felt the weight too. This Tier 0 body couldn't handle prolonged stress. No regeneration. No passive strength. It was a shell. And yet, he pushed on.
Just a few more hours. That's all they needed. Then maybe this nightmare would end.
He reached into his ragged pack and pulled out a strip of dried meat. It wasn't Gralkin flesh—Ash refused to eat anything with a mind, especially something that bled like people.
This meat came from a creature they'd slain days ago. Harmless, in a way. A glowing beast with radiant horns, docile until threatened. But when it defended itself, the ground cracked. It had taken five of them to bring it down.
Ash bit into the jerky.
Then a voice called out from ahead.
"Tachyros, come look at this. You'll love it."
He walked over, chewing slowly. Serian stood near a glowing patch of moss and pointed down.
At first glance, it looked like a mushroom. But it pulsed. Its skin shimmered with soft light, and its tendrils drifted around its base like they were floating underwater.
Delicate. Serene. Almost beautiful.
Ash frowned.
Serian's smile stretched wide.
"Isn't it amazing?"
Ash didn't answer.
He stepped forward—and crushed the creature under his boot.
A faint pulse escaped the ground. The air flickered.
"[Vanquished. You killed a stage 3 Creature: Drowselight Myconid]"
Serian stared, stunned.
"What's your problem? I thought you liked seeing new creatures."
Ash didn't respond at first. His pulse was steady. His gaze was calm. This wasn't the first time he had to lie with confidence.
Tachyros was known for many things—his knowledge most of all. Everyone here saw him as the expert, the genius who studied the Sky Realm before anyone else. It was the only shield Ash had.
He met Serian's gaze.
"You nearly got yourself killed. That thing's a Drowselight. Once it gets close enough, it floods your brain with sleep spores. You don't even feel it until you're on the floor—paralyzed."
Serian hesitated. "...Really?"
"You think every glowing creature out here is harmless? Next time, ask before you poke something."
Ash turned his head. His eyes flicked toward Lunaea, the lie detector. She was distracted, talking to her small flying companion—another godborn, it seemed. She hadn't heard a thing.
Lucky.
Ash stepped away from the crushed remains of the creature and rejoined the group. No one questioned him.
Because to them, he was still Tachyros.
And Tachyros always knew best.
Ash let out a slow breath and kept walking. The wind shifted around them, sharp and dry. Footsteps crunched beside his.
A small figure passed him.
Not small like a child—small like a human.
Real human.
Ash blinked. It hit him again—he wasn't in his own body. Not even close. The one he wore now towered above some other creatures. Broader. Denser. A creature sculpted for war.
A Titan.
If humans were 5 ft tall, Titans are 18 ft tall.
Not just tall, but massive. His steps left deep prints. His breath, even tired, came easier in this strange realm. He had learned the truth days ago—while most races barely birthed godborns at all, Titans produced them like wildfire.
Twenty percent of Titan births.
It was unnatural. And yet here they were—dozens of towering figures climbing the sky island like a living army.
Ash's gaze drifted forward.
Leading the group was the black-haired boy. The one who gave orders back at the Gralkin site. Even now, he moved with purpose, eyes always scanning the cliffs above.
Ash narrowed his gaze, trying to recall—
'Kyrios… that was his name, right?'
He didn't look strong. Not flashy. Ash had never seen him use a skill, not once. And still, the others followed him without question.
A sudden shift in the light pulled Ash's thoughts away.
A shadow passed overhead.
Everyone stopped.
Heads tilted upward.
Something flew across the sky, wings wide and blinding. Then it descended.
A figure landed gently in front of them, the air bending as his feet touched the earth.
Tall. Blonde. Radiant.
His robes flowed like silk, too clean for this land. Wings the color of fresh snow stretched behind his back, and his face... too perfect. No scars, no fatigue. His smile glowed like morning sun.
He didn't walk—he floated. Like the sky itself made way for him.
Ash clenched his fists.
He recognized that face. That same light.
The one who stood above a field of corpses in the reverse vision.
The killer.
He wasn't the only one who noticed.
Around him, the godborns tensed. Faces darkened. Hands hovered near weapons. The glow in their eyes turned sharp.
No one said a word.
But the air around them changed.
Like somehow they knew.
The winged man wasn't here to greet them.
Like. He was here to kill.
Kyrios stepped forward.
A sword shimmered into his hand, light catching along its edge as he raised it toward the winged figure.
"What do you want, angel? Your kind already wiped them out. They are all dead."
The angel raised both hands, smile untouched.
"Ah. That. I'm sorry, truly. We were told not to interfere with Godborn trials. Clearly... someone didn't listen. But I assure you, I'm not here to kill anyone."
He lowered his arms, slow and casual.
"I'm on a mission. Nothing more. I'm hoping you might be able to help."
Lyrius pushed past the others, fury simmering in his glare.
"Why should we trust an angel? You slaughtered them like livestock. Turn back before I lose what patience I have left."
The angel's expression didn't change. He looked at Lyrius as if he were a stubborn child.
"I get it. I really do. The war between the realms… It's older than us all. And yes, some of my kin have lost loved ones too. I don't excuse them, but I understand."
Kyrios let out a long breath and rested the blade over his shoulder.
"What is it you're looking for?"
The angel's smile widened again, bright as dawn.
"Ah, yes. Simple, really. I'm looking for a branch. Fifteen inches tall, black as night. You might've seen it. Or maybe… felt your soul space flicker, like something cut off?"
Kyrios opened his mouth, but Vynessa stepped in, her tone firm.
"No. If we'd seen it, we'd know. And if we'd lost our soul space, none of us would be standing here."
The angel's gaze dimmed.
"Right. That makes sense."
He glanced over the group, then turned to the mountain's peak.
"You've come far. Almost there. If you'd like… I could escort you. A little divine help wouldn't hurt. Especially now. The trial creatures are closing in."
Kyrios narrowed his eyes.
"Didn't you say angels aren't supposed to interfere?"
The angel waved the thought aside like it was nothing.
"No one will know. And besides… I doubt anyone would stop me."
His grin returned, calm and certain.
Kyrios turned. His eyes met Vynessa's—she nodded once. He looked to Lyrius, who scoffed and turned away.
Then his gaze landed on Ash.
Ash froze.
He didn't know what they were talking about. Not really. But he understood the weight in Kyrios's stare. This wasn't about opinions.
It was about Tachyros.
Of course, they looked to him. Of course, they waited for an answer.
Ash swallowed hard and said nothing.
Kyrios sighed, turned back to the angel.
"Fine. We accept. You can walk with us. Just stay out of the way."
The angel gave a pleased nod.
"Excellent. I'll lead the way then. And we should hurry. The creatures chasing you? They're near. I saw them on my way here—won't take long before they catch up."
A ripple of panic moved through the group.
Weapons were checked. Bags tightened. Feet moved faster.
Ash followed, eyes scanning the treeline, heart beating with a cold rhythm.
The angel walked ahead, wings folded at his back, the light around him humming faintly.
But even now, Ash didn't trust the smile on his face.
And the mountain still rose above them—quiet, waiting.
Ash didn't rush like the rest. His steps grew slower with each breath.
He watched the others dart ahead—boots pounding into stone, eyes wide, shoulders tense. No one wanted to be last. No one wanted to be caught.
Except for him.
The red giant passed by, long strides silent despite the weight he carried. Ash waited until the space between them widened, then reached forward.
A ripple of golden light shimmered in the air.
The Codex of Possible Ends floated before him.
Its skinny leathery surface twitched. The single eye at its center opened with a silent blink, staring at him.
Ash's breath slowed. The pages began to flip, guided by something unseen. They stopped.
And words appeared—etched in light, bleeding from the parchment like truth itself.
———
Target: Aurelion Thorne – Angel of the Golden Vine
Possible Futures:
1. Aurelion tells a story about the island. Three demons descend. He fights, falters, and is slain.
2. Aurelion walks silently as they reach the top of the mountain. More angels appear and kill everyone.
3. Aurelion tells a story about the island. Three demons descend. He wounds one, shields the children, and escapes—wings torn, soul intact.
Soul Intent:
"I guess I didn't find the branch. But I still managed to help these kids. Poor Godborns... they must've been through so much."
———
Ash stared at the page.
His fingers clenched.
'Demons?'
He looked up, eyes locked on Aurelion's glowing figure ahead.
No words yet. No stories. Just that radiant smile. Just the wings.
Then again…
His vision. The black branch. Blood. Aurelion's hand wrapped around the object like it was part of him.
'Was that the turning point? The moment it all changed?'
Ash dismissed the Codex. The light broke apart and vanished into his palm.
His head pulsed—too much to consider, too many threads twisting in the dark.
He let out a breath through his teeth, steadying himself.
'If he starts talking…'
Ash's jaw tightened.
'If that angel starts telling a story, then I'll know what's coming next.'
He looked up the mountain trail, sun catching on distant white wings, and kept moving.
————
It had been hours. Aurelion hadn't said a word.
He moved with the group, wings tucked behind his back, expression still, gaze fixed forward.
Ash trailed behind. His mind wasn't quiet.
The book showed three paths. Only one left the angel alive—and even then, it wasn't a victory.
The others ended in death. For Aurelion. For everyone.
He had hoped silence would save them. That if the angel said nothing, the future would shift. Maybe the angels wouldn't attack them.
But now...
Now, Ash wasn't so sure.
'If the angel dies… we all die too. If he lives, but flees… what's left for us?'
It was a gamble. But the Codex didn't say whether the demons would spare them if he died or flee. But it didn't say the demon would kill them either. So the only ending where anyone made it out alive—was the one where the angel spoke.
Ash clenched his jaw.
'Then I need him to speak.'
He started forward, weaving past tired faces. Some Godborns gave him strange looks, but none stopped him.
Serian's eyes narrowed as Ash passed him.
"Tachyros? What are you doing?"
Ash said nothing.
He moved until the light ahead burned against his skin.
Aurelion walked at the front—unmoving, radiant. His wings shimmered faintly in the sun, and his robes drifted with every step. The scent around him was strange, sweet, unnatural. Like blooming gardens grown over bones.
The Angel wasn't as tall as Ash. He was at least 9 ft tall. Half the size of ash.
Ash swallowed. They then look down. He spoke.
"Can you tell us more about this island?"
Aurelion turned his head, expression calm, eyes unreadable.
Ash kept going.
"Why is it called the Sky Grave?"
The angel blinked once.
Then gave a gentle nod.
"If you wish to know... I will tell you."
He didn't break stride.
His voice was soft. It carried like wind brushing across the clouds.
"This island is one of the oldest. A skyborn land filled with life—verdant forests, rivers of light, creatures made of wind and grace. It was called a treasure, once. The jewel of the sky Realm."
Ash glanced at the others. Some had slowed their steps to listen.
Aurelion continued.
"The god who rules this realm—the Light Above All—he watched this island closely. He loved it. Until the war bled into its skies."
Ash tensed.
There it was again. The war. Spoken like everyone should know.
He wanted to ask. Wanted to understand. But he didn't dare draw attention. Not now.
Not when the Codex's first or third future was beginning to unfold.
So he stayed quiet.
The angel's voice carried, clear as the sky above.
"The war that happened here was unlike any before. It wasn't just blood and blades—it was personal. Auralis, one of the Radiant Vanguards, faced the Demon Lord of Chains and Consumption."
His tone grew heavier with each word.
A hush spread through the group.
Then Vynessa's voice broke through.
"Wait—Auralis? As in the Auralis? From the Vanguard?"
All around her, voices stirred. Murmurs rippled. Even Kyrios stiffened.
The angel nodded once, solemn.
"She chose to leave the Sky Realm. To defend the Middle. She swore herself to it—body, soul, and wings. She fought for your world. But she broke that oath when she came back and fought for the Sky Realm instead. Taking part in the war."
Silence hung between them.
"But the demon was stronger than anyone knew. And Auralis fell. Her death... changed this place."
He raised a hand, motioning gently to the earth they walked upon.
"That's why it's called the Sky Grave. Her sacrifice has never been forgotten even to this day. The people here worship her like a god even when she isn't one."
Kyrios stepped forward.
"Is it true the God of Reflection came here? That he mourned for her?"
The angel's lips curled into a soft smile.
"You know your lore well. Yes, I heard they were once best friends. He wept. Right there."
He raised his hand and pointed.
The group followed his gaze.
Up ahead, past the bend in the path, a wide plateau crowned the mountain peak. Stones gleamed there—tall, ancient. In the center stood a ring of altars. Even from this distance, they shimmered with gold light.
The Ascension Altars.
Serian's mouth opened.
"We made it."
Hope rose in his voice. A lightness none of them had felt in days.
Then—
A sharp clap shattered the air.
Footsteps echoed, slow, heavy, dragging shadow behind them.
Ash turned.
The forest had gone still.
From behind twisted trees, three figures stepped into view. Claws clicked against stone. Smoke leaked from their skin like breath made of ash.
Demons.
They stood there, laughing.
As if they'd been waiting.
Ash turned to Aurelion.
The angel's eyes no longer smiled.
That perfect face twisted into something cold.
Murderous.
His wings spread behind him like razors catching the sun. Light cracked around him, forming a thin halo.
The air shifted.
Even the mountain held its breath.